


it's like we can't stop we're enemies

by stevenstamkos



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Top Prospects Game, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 19:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10748475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevenstamkos/pseuds/stevenstamkos
Summary: Nolan Patrick is standing near center ice, tapping the toe of his stick against his trainers. He looks Nico up and down thoughtfully.“Hey,” he says. Nolan Patrick has a pleasant smile.Nico smiles back. “Hi.”





	it's like we can't stop we're enemies

**Author's Note:**

> For El and Hannah and Raven, and anyone else who can't stop thinking about the 2017 draft prospects. This was supposed to be top prospects truth or dare that turned into a little bit more. Btw there are some intentional mistakes with Nico's English.
> 
> Title from "Animals" by Maroon 5.

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep on the bus, Nico thinks about home. Thinks about the mountains of Naters, the sun blinding against the peaks, the deep shadows of the Alps. Halifax is lovely, with its hockey and its harbor and its stiff Canadian politeness, but Nico misses the mountains.

The plane ride to Quebec City is blessedly short compared to the hours he’s quietly suffered on the bus bumping from Halifax to Rouyn-Noranda or Gatineau or Acadie-Bathurst. He sleeps through most of it and wakes up feeling travel-worn and a little grubby, cocooned in his hoodie and beanie.

That first day is all interviews and photoshoots. The reporters throw him easy questions, ask him whose game he likes and what his hockey is like.

He gets compared to Nathan MacKinnon and Jonathan Drouin a few times, because hardly anyone can hear about Moosehead top prospects without thinking of Nathan MacKinnon and Jonathan Drouin.

He also gets compared to Nolan Patrick.

Nico has been hearing about Nolan Patrick for nearly as long as he's been in Canada. Actually longer, if he thinks about it. He has memories of scouts back in Switzerland talking about an amazing WHL prospect who was sure to be at the top of the 2017 draft. He had been excited about playing against him during world juniors, only to hear that Patrick was sitting out the tournament with yet another injury.

“Are you excited to finally play against Nolan Patrick?” the reporter asks.

Nico buries his hands in his pockets and tries not to stumble through his answer.

He hates it when his tongue gets caught up on the edges of words, tripping over himself during interviews. His mind is miles ahead, constructing the perfect answer in German, but he speaks slowly, trying not to catch himself on his ‘th’es and ‘f’s.

“Well it’s—I think it will be fun to play with him; he’s very good.”

“Have you watched him play before?”

“For sure, I watched some video of him, he played awesome so he’s—I think he’s pretty good. I’m very excited to play with him.”

The reporter chuckles. “You mean against him?”

“Well uh, yes,” he says, apologetic. “He’s—uh, yeah.”

He feels like he barely gets a chance to catch his breath after the interviews before he’s being whisked off to the arena, given gloves, a stick, and his Team Orr jersey. “For the team captains photoshoot,” someone informs him, and Nico takes his things and follows them blindly onto the ice. Someone fusses with his hair as he pulls the jersey on.

Nolan Patrick is standing near center ice, tapping the toe of his stick against his trainers. He looks Nico up and down thoughtfully.

“Hey,” he says. Nolan Patrick has a pleasant smile.

Nico smiles back. “Hi.”

They stare at each other for a long minute, and Nico has a moment of mild panic while he tries to figure out how to introduce himself to this boy he's heard so much about but never met. Nolan solves the problem for him though.

“Nico Hischier, right? Nice to finally meet you.”

“Yes, it’s good to meet you.”

Nolan offers him a fist, and Nico bumps it with his glove. This is a good start, right?

 

 

The photoshoots take forever, mostly because whoever is in charge wants to do a million shots from a dozen different angles, all of them awkward. Nico suffers silently because he’s a team player and this is a reality of being a top prospect.

“You ever realize how awkward this feels?” Nolan mutters out of the corner of his mouth as they bend forward, sticks to the ice.

Nico flashes his media smile for the camera before answering. “The photos or…?”

“The poses,” Nolan says.

The cameraman gestures for them to take a knee and they both do, shuffling until they’re half-kneeling side-by-side.

“I never took so many photos before,” Nico says as they get into position.

Nolan glances at him. “Really? I’ve been doing this my whole life. It sucks.”

“Not so many photos at the same time.”

“Lucky, you. I should’ve moved to Switzerland.”

When Nico lifts his eyes, Nolan is looking at him. There is a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth, and he feels his own mouth turn upwards in response.

“Serious faces!” the cameraman shouts.

“Oops,” Nolan mutters, and Nico has to squash the urge to laugh.

They stand, putting their backs to each other and turning their heads to face the camera, and a new round of flashes start up.

It’s really hard to keep a straight face with Nolan beside him, his face almost comically bland and expressionless. They make eye contact and burst into tiny giggles as soon as the cameraman is done.

There is yet another round of interviews after that, and just as Nico thinks that the day will never end, they’re suddenly released.

He gives the gloves and stick back to the staff member coming to collect his things. Nolan steps up next to him, already down to a CHL-issued hoodie and a pair of skinny jeans, his Team Cherry jersey nowhere in sight.

“I actually wanted to ask earlier,” Nolan starts, “but uh, how do you spell Hischier?”

Nico spells it out for him as he takes off his Team Orr jersey.

“Right. Cause I think they spelled your name wrong on your jersey.”

In the rush of putting it on, Nico hadn’t even checked. He flips the white jersey over, and Nolan is right: HISCHER, without an I.

“Thanks, I missed that,” he says to Nolan after reassuring the staff that he really doesn’t mind the mistake.

“Yeah, no problem. So uh, you wanna hang out tonight?”

It’s a cheeky question, considering how there is literally no one else here but the two of them. The other prospects don’t arrive until tomorrow, so they don't have a lot of choices besides sleeping early or hanging out with each other. And they’re sharing a room.

Still, Nolan is funny and friendly, clearly a nice guy, and they hit it off already. Nico is well, interested in getting to know him.

“I would like that. Dinner first though.” He is starving after that plane ride and hours of media duties.

“You move fast,” Nolan says, grinning, and his smile only widens when Nico gives him a confused look. “Yeah, sure buddy. I’ll wine and dine you first, don’t worry.”

 

 

They are stretched out beside each other on Nolan’s narrow bed, watching a TV show that Nolan promises is _really good_ , when Nolan turns to him during a commercial break.

“Hey, Hisch. You ever think about how we’re supposed to be rivals?” he says.

Nico lifts his head from his small mountain of pillows. Nolan’s face is close, his eyes wide and clear and a little thoughtful. “Rivals?”

“Yeah like, one of us might go first and the other might go second in the draft. So you know, everyone’s calling us rivals already. They do that every year with the projected first and second overall picks. You know, Matthews and Laine, McDavid and Eichel...”

“I don’t think that’s fair,” Nico says carefully. He peeks at Nolan again, whose eyes are still trained on him. “I want to be friends.”

Nolan huffs out a little breath, peering at him from under his Wheat Kings snapback. He has intense eyes. “Yeah dude. Me too. You’re cool, you know? I like you.”

The commercial break ends and the show starts again, Nolan turning back to the television. Nico plays with his phone for a second, checking the score of the Mooseheads game, mostly so he doesn’t have to look at Nolan while a curl of warmth spreads in his chest.

Nolan likes him. It’s what Nico has wanted more than anything, to make friends this weekend.

Nolan’s feet are propped on a pillow at the foot of the bed. His bare feet make him look almost vulnerable. Young and human. Not a name that Nico is competing against, but a boy.

 

 

The other prospects arrive the next morning, and suddenly the hotel is too crowded with friendly and optimistic 18-year-olds. Nico makes the rounds quickly, lingering with boys who he knows are assigned to Team Orr, since they’re the ones he’ll be spending the next three days with.

He’s getting to know a few Dub players when there’s a little yell.

“Alright boys!”

The speaker is a compact little guy who comes positively _flying_ into the group, and he’s caught by one of the guys Nico has just met—Cody Glass.

“Yammer! Wassup, bro?” a few guys say in greeting.

Yammer turns out to be Kailer Yamamoto, Team Orr, who untangles himself from Cody after a long, lingering hug that involves a lot of happy exclamations. He gives Nico a sunny smile. “Hey, it’s the captain!”

“Hi,” Nico says.

It’s clear that Kailer wants to catch up with Cody though, so Nico leaves them to it, the other boys having drifted away as soon as Cody and Kailer made eye contact. It must be a Dub thing. The Dub is a weird place.

He turns away and bumps neatly into Stelio Mattheos.

Stelio stares long and hard at him before smirking. “Hischier? Seen some of your hockey. Got nice hands.”

“Thank you.” Nico makes sure to keep his voice friendly and polite, but he’s not sure he likes the way Stelio is looking at him. It’s almost like the other boy is smirking, but Nico has never met him before so he’s not sure why Stelio would look so satisfied.

“So you had a whole day with just Patty, eh? He was dying to meet you. I hear they posed you together for _hours_ of photos.”

Nolan, dying to meet him? Well, Stelio would probably know, being Nolan’s Wheat Kings teammate.

Nico shifts uncomfortably at the glint in Stelio’s eye, but he tries to keep up a pleasant friendly face. “You know, I just tried to focus me on making friends and having fun, not on the photos or the media."

“So...how was it?”

“Well...the photos?”

Stelio actually laughs at that. “Nah, man. I mean chilling with Patty. He’s a fun guy. Got a mouth on him though, but you probably already know that. Unless he was on his best behavior last night.”

“Well uh...It was nice. It was fun to talk with him.”

Nolan shows up behind Stelio’s back, slinging an easy arm over Stelio’s shoulder. “Are you harassing Nico?”

“Oh, first name basis already,” Stelio says, grinning. “Okay.”

“You’re a fucker,” Nolan says. His arm tightens around Stelio, and he drags the other boy away.

The Dub is _weird_.

 

 

It turns out that there aren’t a lot of things to do in Quebec City when they have a curfew, so by Sunday night, a handful of prospects are just hanging out in the common area on their floor of the hotel. There are only about ten of them, the other prospects having disappeared into their rooms or wandered away.

“I can't wait for the game tomorrow,” Kailer says cheerfully once they've finished yet another round of Texas Hold ‘Em. “It's gonna be so epic, boys.”

Cody shuffles the cards, moving carefully so he doesn't shake Kailer off from where he's resting his head on Cody’s shoulder. “Team Orr, baby.”

“No way, Team Cherry for sure. Gonna break that streak of yours,” Nolan says. He catches Nico’s eye and winks, sliding his finger across his throat in a _you’re dead_ motion.

“Nah, we got gunz,” Kailer says, flexing, and Cody laughs so hard he accidentally dislodges Kailer.

Nico isn’t really sure he knows what’s going on with Cody and Kailer, but he watches Cody fistbump Kailer and echo, “Gunz.”

As Cody beings to deal out the cards again, Stelio stretches and says, “Another round? We should put down bets or something, make it interesting at least.”

“What are we gonna bet with? I get a monthly stipend, man. I’m broke.”

“None of us are broke, Tipper,” Stelio says, and Owen Tippett shrugs.

Nico sees Cody shifting uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye. “No bets,” he says suddenly, and watches as Cody relaxes a tiny bit. “We can play something else if this is not fun.”

“Yeah! We can do something else! Like play truth or dare,” Kailer says.

He manages to shout down every objection, including “What are you, a sixth grader?” and “No one ever comes up with good dares!” By the end, everyone in the group has more or less given in, seized by boredom or Kailer’s endless enthusiasm. It’s either that, or a last-ditch effort to get Kailer to chill and stop, well, yammering.

Nico is starting to get the impression that Kailer Yamamoto does not ever shut up or turn off. Not that it’s a bad thing, because Kailer is also the friendliest person in the room, and had immediately decided to call Nico “Hisch babe” in front of all the cameras.

“No one’s gonna choose truth, you know,” Stelio says.

Kailer grins, bright and happy. “Yeah bro, I know. That’s the point, pay attention Stels.”

“I’d choose truth,” Nolan says solemnly, because Nolan Patrick likes to fuck with people.

“No you wouldn’t,” Stelio says.

A beat, and then Nolan gives in. “Okay yeah I wouldn’t. Man up, dude.”

“Okay boys let’s have a good sesh here.” Kailer gathers their group into a rough circle with much jostling and shoving. Nico sits next to Kailer, mouthing the word “sesh” to himself a few times before realizing that Kailer means “session.” North American hockey players and their lingo—makes it that much harder for him to keep up.

“Alright, who’s first?” Owen asks once they’ve all settled down.

Nic Hague frowns across the circle at his Steelheads teammate. “Hold on, Tipper. We haven’t even laid down the rules yet. Like are we gonna go around the circle, or are we doing last person picked picks the next person?”

“We’ll do that,” Kailer says, because he’s apparently decided that he’s going to be the leader of Top Prospects Truth or Dare. “Okay so like I’ll pick someone and once they do a truth or dare they’ll pick whoever they want. I pick Cody.”

“Aww man,” Cody says beside him, but he’s smiling.

“Of course,” Stelio mutters and then fakes a cough to cover it up.

Most of the dares start out funny and fairly innocent. Stelio gets a softball, taking a shot of vodka mixed with some mystery ingredient that Cody added. Gabe Vilardi endures the horrible Sharpie art that Stelio applies to his face. Matt Strome actually licks the hotel carpet despite Nico’s reservations, which is completely gross and also kind of hilarious. Things get increasingly dirtier as rounds progress, though Nico gets away with a relatively easy one. Kailer’s dare involves shots and an impromptu strip dance down to his boxers.

After he puts his clothes back on, Kailer immediately turns to Nolan, who is innocently taking a drink from his cup. “Okay, Patty. Truth or dare?”

Nolan lowers his cup. “Dare, come on Yammer.”

“Oh my god, we gotta think of something perfect for Mister First Overall,” Gabe says.

“Dude, he should give someone a lap dance. I hear Crosby gave someone a lap dance in juniors.”

“No way,” someone else says, scandalized. “That ass?”

The conversation is derailed for a few minutes as several guys begin arguing about the possibility of Sidney Crosby actually giving a teammate a lap dance. It is eventually broken up by Owen, who shouts, “Hold on guys, Patty still has to do his dare!”

Kailer’s face is pink with laughter. “Okay okay I got it. Patty, you gotta…” He scans the group, and his face lights up dangerously when he meets Nico’s eyes. “…give Hisch a hickey.”

Stelio chokes on his tongue or something, because he starts coughing up a lung and is turning increasingly red as he doubles over. Nico would be concerned for him, except his brain is finally catching up to Kailer’s words. He opens his mouth, but he can’t quite think of what to say. Nolan solves that for him.

“Really, that’s all you got, man?”

“What, you wanna lick the rug instead like Stromer?” Kailer fires back.

Matt shudders in disgust, sticking his tongue out like he can’t bear for it to be in his mouth.

Nolan seems to think about it for a second before giving in, because he scoots over to where Nico is sitting, kneeling in front of him. His next words come out much less defiant. “Okay fine, where?”

“Um.” Kailer taps his chin, thoughtful. “I dunno, neck?”

“Yeah, neck is good. Give it to him good, Patty,” Cody says. “Hisch, you cool with this?”

Nico is feeling very uncharitable toward Cody and Kailer right now, but he can’t very well say no. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Nolan is studying him like he’s a particularly complex play, his eyes narrowed in concentration. It makes Nico feel almost uncomfortable with the intense scrutiny, and he stares back, trying to keep his face blank. The first touch of Nolan’s fingers to his neck is a shock of cold, and Nico flinches back a bit. Nolan doesn’t apologize, but he does move his hand to Nico’s shoulder instead before leaning in and licking a quick stripe over his neck.

Nico almost unthinkingly tips his head back a bit, trying to keep his breathing even and the butterflies in his stomach calm. He has a part to play in this game, after all, and he’s not going to lose face in front of his new friends no matter how far out of his comfort zone he is.

Nolan shifts a little on his knees and wastes no time in working up to a hard suck. It’s not really hot, kind of painful actually, and very awkward.

“Slow down, bro. Warm a guy up a bit,” comes Stelio’s voice. There are a few groans in the background.

“Shut up, Stels,” Nolan mutters, but he does slow down, his lips gentling against Nico’s neck.

They’re interrupted a second time by Kailer.

“Wait, wait ahhh! Bro I got a better idea.”

Nolan pulls back, looking outraged. “You can’t just change your mind! I already started!”

“Kailer, uh…” Nico starts. His face feels very warm, and it’s harder than usual to find the words. They didn’t really do stuff like that in Bern or Halifax.

But Kailer is flapping his hands, looking excited. “No hold on you haven’t actually given Hisch a hickey yet so I can still change my mind. Anyway hickeys are too visible and we’ll have like, every NHL scout watching us tomorrow thinking Hisch is a slut or something. Not that there’s like, anything wrong with being a slut if you are,” he adds hurriedly in Nico’s direction.

Nico considers asking what a slut is before deciding to just drop it.

“You know, he has a point,” Cody says, because Cody is always on Kailer’s side. “The hickey would raise a lot of questions.”

“What was your new idea then?” Nolan asks with some exasperation.

Kailer flashes everyone his teeth. “So like, Patty I dare you to make out with Hisch.”

“Why is it always Nico?”

“You want Nolan to...make out with me?” Nico echos. He has a pretty good idea about what that means.

“Listen, you’re the top two picks right now. Everyone’s itching for a good rivalry. It’ll be interesting, come on.” Kailer bounces a little in excitement. “2017 Draft Rival Captains Share a Passionate Kiss At the Top Prospects Game.”

“I think me and Nolan are not rivals,” Nico says to no one in particular.

“Okay,” Nolan says at the same time. Nico gives him a startled look. “Whatever, Yammer. Come here Hisch, we’re gonna do this right.”

Apparently Nolan really doesn’t believe in wasting time, because he immediately puts a hand on Nico’s jaw for a second to steady him before leaning in to catch his lips. At first it’s just a messy press of mouths, a crushing pressure that’s nowhere near good, but then Nico lets his eyes fall shut, tilts his head and softens his lips, and it’s—

It’s stupid to say that it’s earth-shattering, cause it’s not. Nico keeps his hands twisted in his lap; Nolan keeps his braced on the floor on either side of Nico’s hips, looming over him. But it’s good, unexpectedly good. Nolan is objectively a pretty good kisser, which is unfair when combined with his hair and his face and his hockey, Nico has a moment to think, before Nolan licks his way into his mouth.

Nolan kisses with the kind of intensity and competitiveness that one would expect a top CHL player to display on the ice. He is every bit as aggressive and creative as he claimed in his Top Prospects profile.

There’s a low whistle in the background, and Nico hears someone murmur something before someone else loudly shushes them. It doesn’t matter though, because there’s another wolf-whistle, and it’s getting too awkward with all the heavy eyes he can feel on him.

He turns away for a breath, and Nolan follows him for a second, biting his lip gently before kissing away the sting.

“Wo-ow,” comes Stelio’s voice, sounding amused.

“Enthusiastic,” Cody agrees.

“Said we were gonna do it right,” Nolan says carelessly, but his eyes are intense and still trained on Nico’s face.

Nico doesn’t try to speak. His voice would be unsteady anyway.

Nolan sits back on his heels and turns to Kailer. “Okay, Yammer. Your turn.”

“You can’t pick me again, I just went!” Kailer says.

“Okay, fine. Glasser, you’re up.”

Cody pushes his hair out of his face and flashes his wide, effortless smile. “What’s up, Patty.”

Nolan stabs a finger in Kailer’s direction. “Pucker up.”

Cody actually laughs at that, spreading his legs and giving Kailer room to squeeze between them. They go at it with a lot more enthusiasm than Nico expected, but then again, knowing the two of them, he really shouldn’t have been surprised.

And is that—is that tongue?

Cody pulls back, pink-faced and pleased, and Kailer is looking equally flushed and happy. He bounces out of Cody’s lap, but Nico doesn’t miss the way their hands are linked at their sides as Cody searches for his next victim.

After that, the rest of the night devolves into increasingly hysterical dares and ends with Maxime Comtois threeway frenching with Nic Hague and Nick Suzuki.

 

 

The Top Prospects Game itself is good until it’s not.

Nico has been playing aggressive, physical North American hockey all season long, meeting even the grittiest, most skilled teams in the Q, but Team Cherry is another thing altogether. This is, after all, a team of the best prospects in the upcoming draft. And it’s clear just how skilled their players are.

Nolan is bigger than him, checks harder, and has a longer reach, and he’s fast too, controlling the puck up long stretches of ice. He throws his weight around easily and is hard to move off the puck, playing smart and physical. More than once, Nico finds himself bouncing onto the ice as Nolan shoulders him before skating past.

Throughout it all though, Nico is aware of how weirdly nonaggressive some of Nolan’s checks are when he’s laying them on him, especially when he’s seen Nolan hit his teammates harder.

Team Orr goes up 3-2 on Nico’s goal, a beauty play, but Team Cherry takes back the lead.

Nico goes in behind the net, chases out the puck, and Nolan checks him gently again. It’s more like a bump.

Kailer scores to even it again for Team Orr, but Gabe and then Tipper make it 6-4 for Team Cherry.

Nico goes into the dirty corners. Nolan cross-checks him flat on his ass.

When the ref blows the whistle for a commercial break, Nolan skates with Nico to the benches, commenting breathlessly on a nice little setup from earlier in the game.

“Gotta admit, that was nice, man, the little touch there at the end. Soft hands.”

“You too.” Nico pauses to squirt some water into his mouth and leans against his stick. “You had, on the power play on Tipper’s goal…”

“Yeah?” Nolan grins. “You liked that? I thought it was a fresh move myself. You gotta get on my level.”

“Score a goal first,” Nico says.

Nolan doesn’t score a goal.

It doesn’t matter though, because Team Cherry wins anyway. It’s a high-scoring, no-stakes game that doesn’t affect anything but his ranking among scouts, and he knows he played to impress. Still, the loss doesn’t sit well with Nico.

In the locker room, Kailer is staring off into space, frowning as he tosses his helmet onto the seat of his stall. Cody comes over and lays his chin on Kailer’s head, and Kailer leans into his chest.

Nico leaves them to it. There are postgames, after all, and scouts who want to talk with him.

 

 

When Nico steps out of the locker room, Nolan is already outside, smiling and shifting his weight from foot to foot. His pale cheeks are flushed pink and his hair is still damp. “Hey, Hisch. Nico.”

“Congrats,” Nico says, because he’s a graceful loser.

“You were really good.” Nolan dimples at him. “Your goal was a beauty.”

“Thank you, I try always to do my best.” He catches himself before he begins giving a media answer to a fellow player, shrugging instead. “I think you were really good. I really like your hockey.”

“Yeah?” Nolan grins, letting the smile take over his face for a moment. “High praise from the Swiss superstar.”

Nico starts to mumble back an answer about teamwork, but Nolan shakes his head.

“You’re actually as good as they say, okay, man? You are.”

“Well, uh...thanks,” Nico says.

Nolan nods seriously and then bites his lip, lashes lowered almost coyly. “So, um. Anyway. I was just thinking. We got interrupted last night.”

Nico can feel his eyebrows twitch. “Yeah, I thought you would ignore that.”

“Kinda hard thing to ignore. Would’ve been better if we got to finish.”

“You want to maybe…”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Nolan nods. “You wanna…?”

Nico tilts his chin up and finds Nolan’s mouth.

It’s a stupid place to do this, but all the other Team Orr prospects left long before Nico was done with his interviews and shower, and there’s no one in the hallway. Nolan kisses him carefully this time, less dirty than he did last night, his tongue moving slow and exploratory. Nico is suddenly aware of Nolan’s hand on the back of his neck, and his own hands bunched in the sides of Nolan’s jacket.

“We should go back to our room,” Nolan says when he pulls back, and Nico hastily agrees.

 

 

The morning is mostly frantic as they try to do last-minute packing, turning their hotel room upside down in search of lost chargers, phones, and articles of clothing. They both finish early though, and then they’re doing one last sweep of the room and preparing to check out of the hotel.

“Hell of a weekend, eh?” Nolan says as he zips up his bags.

Nico nods, unable to hold back the smile that comes to his face. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, same. Can’t wait to go back out west though. The Q is fucking weird, man.”

Nico chuckles and pulls on his hoodie, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair.

It’s only when he’s actually bending to pick up his bags that Nolan speaks again.

“You’re not gonna go back to Switzerland, right? It’s none of my business, I know, just there are some rumors you might go back to the NLA and play for Bern, and uh, you’re a real good player you know. I’d love to play against you some more.” Nolan’s voice trails off into quiet mumbling, and Nico strains his ears.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear—”

“Um. I was just wondering, you’re staying, right? Make the Show?”

It’s oddly gratifying to hear how anxious Nolan is for Nico to stick around.

“Yes,” he says slowly, and he was always sure of it before, sure of it when he activated his exit clause with Bern, sure of it when he chose to leave everything familiar to come play North American hockey. But he’s never said it with so much conviction. “It was for sure a hard decision, I liked really Bern, but here I can get a better hockey player.”

Nolan smiles. “Good, uh, that’s nice.” He shuffles a little in place. “So, I guess I’ll see you around? Good luck on the rest of the regular season.”

“Thanks, I hope your team can make the playoffs.”

There is an awkward beat of silence, and then Nolan mutters, “What the hell,” and hauls Nico closer to plant a kiss on his lips. “For luck, for the playoffs,” he says, “and also cause I won’t see you around for a while. And it was nice. This was nice.”

It _was_ nice. Everything about this weekend was: the other prospects, the hockey, the card games and truth or dare. And Nolan.

He leans back in and Nolan meets him halfway, kissing lazily until a loud buzzing interrupts them.

Nolan checks his phone. “Shit uh, Stels is looking for me.”

“Don’t miss the plane.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nolan smiles at him, looking a little flushed and breathless. “So, we’re gonna see each other soon.”

Nico nods. They have top prospect stuff coming up after the rest of the season and the playoffs (if they make it). Interviews and outings, promotions with Don Cherry, the Combine, the draft, everything that Otto Somppi told Nico to expect. “Yeah. In May.”

“Four months,” Nolan says. “It’s not that long.”

No, it’s really not. It’s not that long until they’ll be standing on the stage in Chicago (as first? second?) and pulling on their new team’s jersey. And all their dreams ahead of them.

 

Nico returns to Halifax with half a dozen fading hickeys, Nolan Patrick’s phone number, and a solid ranking among most NHL scouts.

Max Fortier takes one look at his face and sighs dramatically. “Oh my god. Oh my god Nico. Not again.”

“Not again?”

“God, I remember going through this with Jo and Nate MacKinnon. The—The hickeys and the lovestruck looks and the furious texting. Oh my god I can’t believe I have to go through this again.”

“I’m confused,” Nico politely informs his linemate.

“You’re so fucked, bro,” Max says.

**Author's Note:**

> The Top Prospects Game was on Monday night, and I believe Nico and Nolan arrived on Friday, and the rest of the prospects on Saturday. Come cry at me on tumblr (or here) about the prospects bc I love them even though they were super hard to write! (Also I miss the Mooseheads so I'm sad always, we can talk about that too)


End file.
